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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690284">your tongue told me every lie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrythesky/pseuds/carrythesky'>carrythesky</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Girls (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Denial of Feelings, Desk Sex, F/M, Smut, me @ s3: i pretend i do not see it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:26:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,951</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrythesky/pseuds/carrythesky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don’t scare me,” she says, her voice a low scrape of sound.</p><p>He wants to touch her—she can feel the want radiating off him, can see the lines of his tendons as he clenches his fingers against his knees. But he doesn’t move. When it comes to—<i>this</i>, whatever the hell it is, he’s always let her take the lead.</p><p>She should leave, now. She should—</p><p>She can’t explain what makes her reach out, what makes her brush the tips of her fingers against his arm. His skin is smoother than she expects, the muscles of his forearm taut beneath her hand.</p><p>“Right,” he says, voice hoarse. His eyes are fixed on her. “Right, ‘cause you’re the boss, now.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beth Boland/Rio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>200</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your tongue told me every lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>back on my brio bullshit! this is an old fic that i decided to clean up a bit, and then *ahem* add an e rating to. it’s set in some vague s2 timeline, because i miss s2. :/</p><p>inspired by some truly fabulous art by @lindigo on tumblr, which i will link in the notes at the end.</p><p>beta'd by the incredible erin, aka <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire">HeartonFire!</a> &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day after the cops almost find Boomer’s body, Annie suggests they take the night off, just the three of them. No work, no family—</p><p> </p><p>“And <em>no</em> extracurricular friends,” Annie emphasizes, side-eyeing Beth as she says it, which Beth does not appreciate. She’s about to say as much, but then Ruby is emerging from the closet, holding a dress Beth has no memory of buying. It’s sleek and cherry-red, and she feels exposed just looking at it.</p><p> </p><p>“No—” she starts to protest, but Ruby holds up a hand.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re wearing it,” she says, fixing Beth with a stare that chases her rebuttal back down her throat. “Don’t get me wrong, you rock a pantsuit better than Hillary—”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Way</em> better than Hillary,” Annie interjects, then shrugs when Beth glares at her.</p><p> </p><p>“—but we’re going glam, tonight,” Ruby finishes. She hangs the dress on the door. “You’re wearing it.”</p><p> </p><p>And that’s the end of that.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She brings the dress to work. It hangs on the back of the door to Dean’s office—<em>her</em> office, now, her door—and Beth feels a small thrill every time she sees it, anticipation and nerves all blended up in the pit of her stomach. It’s not that she‘s ashamed of her body, or the way she looks. She knows her curves are sexy. She’s just not sure anyone else does.</p><p> </p><p>(Beth absolutely does not think about Rio. She doesn’t think about his hungry eyes raking up the entire length of her body, or the way his tongue sometimes darts between his teeth when he’s looking at her. She doesn’t think about that night at the bar, how firm his hand was when he grasped her thigh, palmed the curve of her breast—)</p><p> </p><p>Beth keeps her door wide open the rest of the day.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She’s utterly exhausted by closing time, but it’s a good feeling. <em>I can do this</em>, she thinks as she packs up, doing one last circuit around the sales floor.<em> I can do this well.</em></p><p> </p><p>She hasn’t forgotten about the dress, but that light and airy anticipation from earlier has evaporated, leaving her stomach heavy with dread. For a moment, Beth considers telling Annie and Ruby that she forgot it, or that it didn’t fit—but that somehow feels worse than just putting the stupid thing on, so she begrudgingly yanks it off the hanger and goes to the dealership’s bathroom to change.</p><p> </p><p>The sharp fluorescent lights do nothing to lift her mood, and she scrunches her nose at her reflection. The dress itself isn’t <em>bad</em>, it’s just—not her.</p><p> </p><p>She laughs aloud. None of this—robbing a bank, laundering money for a street criminal, sleeping with said criminal, assuming management over her husband’s car dealership—none of this is her, is it? She’s not so sure, anymore.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Be a boss bitch.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Beth sizes up her reflection in the mirror, the sleek dress with its sweetheart neckline.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah. She can do that.</p><p> </p><p>Beth almost doesn’t see him. She’s shoving her work clothes unceremoniously into her bag when movement flashes in her periphery, and she <em>yelps</em>—</p><p> </p><p>“So I guess y’all don’t do casual Fridays,” Rio says, a smile spreading wide across his face as he eyes the dress, her red pumps.</p><p> </p><p>Beth blows out a shaky breath. “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t you ever, I don’t know, use a cell phone?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I’m old-fashioned.” He’s sitting at her desk, a smirk still playing at his lips, and Beth is torn between wanting to slap him or do something else to wipe that expression off his face.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want?” she says. “We’re closing soon, which for most people would mean come back tomorrow—”</p><p> </p><p>Rio quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not most people.”</p><p> </p><p>“Look,” Beth snaps, “as much fun as your drive-by visits are, I don’t have time for this tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>“What, you got a hot date, or somethin’?”</p><p> </p><p>Beth scoffs. “Maybe I do, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Rio just looks at her for a second, his eyes hazy even in the glow of early-evening light filtering in through her office windows. Beth doesn’t like the way it’s stirring something up in her gut, warm and slow like sun-warmed honey.</p><p> </p><p>“What,” she sighs, “do you want?”</p><p> </p><p>Rio shifts in his chair, legs spreading slightly. “Just wanted to see how my business is doin’.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me, your business?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sixty-percent, yeah? Last time I checked, that’s more than half. Which means it’s more mine than yours, sweetheart.”</p><p> </p><p>Anger sparks in her chest, hot and fast. Her cheeks are warm with it. “Get out,” she demands. “Now.”</p><p> </p><p>Rio leans forward. “You gonna make me?”</p><p> </p><p>She’s not sure how it happened, but she’s standing almost directly in front of him. From this angle, she can see the shadow that the collar of his shirt casts across his throat.</p><p> </p><p>From this angle, he has to look up at her.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t scare me,” she says, her voice a low scrape of sound.</p><p> </p><p>He wants to touch her—she can feel the want radiating off him, can see the lines of his tendons as he clenches his fingers against his knees. But he doesn’t move. When it comes to—<em>this</em>, whatever the hell it is, he’s always let her take the lead.</p><p> </p><p>She should leave, now. She should—</p><p> </p><p>She can’t explain what makes her reach out, what makes her brush the tips of her fingers against his arm. His skin is smoother than she expects, the muscles of his forearm taut beneath her hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” he says, voice hoarse. His eyes are fixed on her. “Right, ‘cause you’re the boss, now.”</p><p> </p><p>And then he’s got a hand on her, his palm curved around the meat of her thigh. His fingers skate upwards, teasing around the dress’s hem. Beth feels each point of contact like a laser, every one of her nerve endings attuned to where he’s touching her.</p><p> </p><p>“Annie and Ruby are waiting for me,” she breathes.</p><p> </p><p>Rio’s eyes are wildfire. “So let ‘em wait.”</p><p> </p><p>His hand skims higher, and Beth spasms when the pad of his thumb slips beneath her panties. He huffs a laugh, looking so goddamn <em>pleased</em> with himself. “You like that, ma?”</p><p> </p><p>Beth narrows her eyes, but it’s useless—her legs are quivering beneath his hands, and she knows he can feel it. “You are <em>such</em> an asshole,” she hisses.</p><p> </p><p>“ ‘S one school of thought,” he murmurs, the words slow and husky. His eyes don’t leave her face as his fingers graze her inner thigh, and her breath catches in her throat. She still hasn’t closed up shop, and yeah, it’s the end of the day, but someone could still walk in, someone could see—</p><p> </p><p>It’s dangerous, what she’s doing. It’s <em>bad</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Pleasure sparks between her legs, and Beth has to resist the urge to clamp her thighs together. Her nails dig into his arm, and something bright flashes behind his eyes, something predatory. He’s looking at her like he wants to open her up, see what comes spilling out. See exactly what she’s made of.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You’re the boss, now.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She draws herself up slightly, chin jutting out. “You gonna take all day down there?” she says, proud that her voice stays steady. “Like I said, I have somewhere to be.”</p><p> </p><p>Rio makes a noise in his throat, rumbling low like thunder, and she knows she has him. Satisfaction unfurls in her chest—and then he’s sliding a finger into her, and all coherent thought is driven from her head, lost to the rush of her pulse in her ears, the delicious stretch as he eases his way in.</p><p> </p><p>It’s muscle memory that has her grasping at his shoulder, her pelvis canting into his palm to chase the friction. Rio pushes deeper, and she has to bite her lip to keep quiet. She slants her neck up toward the ceiling, her eyes shuttering.</p><p> </p><p>“Like it when you boss me around,” he’s saying, dragging his finger out before pumping into her again. Beth can’t help it this time—she shudders, a soft whimper breaking past her lips. Slowly, Rio slips his finger out again, teasing lazy circles around her entrance. Beth’s hand jumps to his wrist, tugging emphatically. “Yeah,” Rio laughs, “yeah, just like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t—tell you to stop,” Beth gasps.</p><p> </p><p>“Loud ‘n clear, darlin’,” Rio says, adding another finger as he plunges between the slick of her folds. Beth’s nails bite the skin on the underside of his wrist, and her stomach squirms pleasantly at his sharp intake of breath. She would die before admitting it, but the way he makes her feel, strong as steel, the exact fucking <em>opposite</em> of the good little porcelain doll she’s been her entire life—it’s intoxicating. She wants to drown in it, in him.</p><p> </p><p>Rio crooks his fingers, hitting an angle that makes her writhe. His thumb knuckles softly against her clit, and Beth can feel the tension coiling in her belly already, everything shrinking at the edges. His breath is coming faster now, jagged like the edge of a knife, and she could come just like this, but it’s not enough. Her entire body draws taut like a bowstring at the memory of his cock inside of her, filling her up—</p><p> </p><p>Beth rocks forward, rucking her dress up around her thighs as she brackets her knees around him. He tilts his pelvis to meet her, pulling his fingers out, and the sound of protest she starts to make sticks in her throat as the movement grinds her against the hard ridge of his erection. Her blood sings, hazy-hot desire jolting up the column of her spine.</p><p> </p><p>Beth’s hand darts to his pants, grasping at the zipper. Rio laughs softly, both palms sliding around her ass. “I know you’re in a hurry, but damn, baby.” He squeezes, the pads of his fingers kneading into her. “I ain’t a piece of meat.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” she grits between her teeth.</p><p> </p><p>Rio <em>tsks</em>, head tilting to one side. “Manners, Elizabeth.” His hands splay, fingers caging her hips. His face is inches from hers, so close that she sees the spaces between his lashes, feels his breath when he exhales. He dips his head, mouth ghosting her clavicle. “What would those PTA bitches say,” he murmurs, each word like a brand against her skin. “Huh? You think you’re just like ‘em, but here you are, down in the shit. Rollin’ around in it.” His lips drift higher, to the hollow of her throat. “Think you’re so much better than ‘em, than me. But you ain’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Anger and arousal flush through her in equal parts. He’s always known how to rile her up, burrow under her skin like a splinter. She can’t dislodge him, no matter how hard she tries. And the thing is, he’s not wrong. Down in the muck and the shadows, she knows who she is.</p><p> </p><p>He’s shining a light on all her dirty laundry, but Beth isn’t here for that. She doesn’t owe him anything, much less the truth. So she does the only thing that will shut him up—hooks a hand under his chin, and brings her mouth crashing down to his.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not soft, and she doesn’t want it to be. They trade kisses like punches—she bites his lower lip, and in retaliation his tongue thrusts into her mouth. Her hands are everywhere; sliding around the nape of his neck, curved like claws at his jawline, pressed to his jugular. One of Rio’s hands skates up her sternum, yanking her dress and bra aside so he can tweak a nipple between his fingers. The other hand fumbles with his pants, shucking them down his thighs.</p><p> </p><p>She feels when his cock springs free. He jerks his hips, and Beth gasps as the tip rubs against her cunt. Rio snags her lower lip between his teeth, biting just hard enough to sting. “You want it?” he rasps, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He brushes her entrance again, but he pulls away slightly as she cants toward him. He’s playing with her, making her work for what she wants. Making her beg. It’s what he’s always done—why should this be any different?</p><p> </p><p>Fuck that. She’s gonna take what she wants.</p><p> </p><p>Beth pulls at her panties so hard she hears the fabric tear. It was a nice pair, expensive, but in this moment she couldn’t give less of a fuck. She pushes against him, swirling around the head of his cock, and she feels a pinch of triumph when he hisses through his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“You want bossy?” she says, and she almost doesn’t recognize her own voice. “Fuck me. <em>Now</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>She locks eyes with him as he pushes inside, so she sees the moment he breaks. His jaw goes slack, his lower lip plush and jutting out in a way that’s so him, so familiar it makes her chest ache.</p><p> </p><p>She’s dipping into her feelings, too close for comfort. Beth shifts her weight, pushing herself up on her knees before sinking down onto him again, and the pressure in her chest evaporates. He feels so goddamn <em>good</em>, stretching her out the way she remembers. Filling her up, no room for anything else.</p><p> </p><p>Rio thrusts into her, sheathing his cock to the hilt, and the guttural cry that rips from her throat is entirely involuntary. She bears down on him, grinding her hips in a frenetic circle, and then he’s pumping into her harder, fucking her in earnest. The wet slap of skin on skin fills her office, punctuated by the lewd noises each of them is making.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s it, ma, that’s—<em>fuck</em>—” Rio groans. He’s grabbing her waist so hard she’s sure she’ll have bruises tomorrow, but she doesn’t care. All she cares about is chasing the warmth that’s building in the pit of her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Beth braces her arms on his shoulders and surges up on her knees. His cock slams up into her, right against her clit, and she’s so fucking close, she can almost taste it on her tongue. He rams into her, again and again, and his thumb slips between them, circling <em>just</em> the right spot—</p><p> </p><p>Her orgasm hits like lightning, blinding heat and static. She throws her head back in a wordless cry as all the air swoops from her lungs. She can’t breathe. She can’t—anything. She can’t remember the last time she came this hard.</p><p> </p><p>(Yes, she can. It was in that <em>fucking</em> bathroom, his breath hot on her neck and his name stuck on her tongue).</p><p> </p><p>Rio is still hard, still pumping into her, his arms solid like a wall around her. He’s the only thing holding her up. She’s still coming down, but already she can feel the embers stirring again, stoked by his nails digging half-moons into her torso, his cock inside her.</p><p> </p><p>Will she ever have her fill of him?</p><p> </p><p>“Desk,” she pants, jutting her chin. His hips stutter, and his brow creases with confusion for a nanosecond before he gets it. In one swift motion, he hooks her legs around him and pivots them so that she’s on her back on the desk. Beth can vaguely feel something digging into her lumbar—a pen, maybe—but she’s too boneless to care.</p><p> </p><p>Rio props himself on his forearms, framing her face. His pupils are blown wide like dinner plates, his chest heaving with how hard he’s breathing. “You cheated, mama,” he pants, fucking into her so hard that something goes crashing from her desk to the floor. “Didn’t—wait for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, then,” she breathes, digging the heels of her pumps into his back to urge him on. His eyes flash, and he ruts into her once, twice—</p><p> </p><p>He spills into her with a choked-off grunt, his entire lean frame quivering.</p><p> </p><p>For several moments, the only sound is the two of them breathing. The sun has dipped low in the sky outside, casting long shadows across his face. It makes him look like one of those abstract paintings, something that’s not quite real.</p><p> </p><p>Beth knows what’s real. She suspects that he does, too.</p><p> </p><p>But none of that matters. This will play out the same way it always does—the dust will settle, and they’ll both go back to pretending. Beth thinks they could fill up an ocean with all of the things they aren’t saying to each other.</p><p> </p><p>She could do it. She could break the dam, open her mouth and ask the words that are a thorn inside her, the words she buries deep so he can’t use them against her. <em>What is this? What are we?</em> <em>Do you feel the same way I do?</em></p><p> </p><p><em>What now,</em> her heartbeat says, pounding a cadence against her ribs. <em>What now what now what now</em>—</p><p> </p><p>Rio rolls off her, tucking himself back into his pants. She feels the loss of physical contact like a sucker punch, and it takes every ounce of restraint she has not to reach for him. For a moment, she just lies there, eyes to the ceiling as she wills her jackhammer pulse to settle.</p><p> </p><p>When she pushes herself up from the desk, he’s already halfway to the door. “You got a good thing goin’ here,” he says, jerking his head at the sales floor, but his double meaning is transparent as glass. <em>You got a good thing goin’ with me</em>. His eyes dart to hers. “Try not to screw it up, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Speak for yourself,” Beth snarls, and she’s all iron again, tucking away everything soft and vulnerable where he can't see it.</p><p> </p><p>His lips twitch. “You should wear red more,” he says, deliberately looking her up and down. Even from this distance, his gaze sears against her skin. “It suits you.”</p><p> </p><p>Then he’s gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the aforementioned art can be found <a href="https://lindigo.tumblr.com/post/184002497038/darlin">here.</a>🔥🔥</p><p>title swiped from "paper love" by allie x, which i listened to approximately 23498723984 times while writing this.</p><p>also rebloggable on <a href="https://carry-the-sky.tumblr.com/post/615595614461444096/your-tongue-told-me-every-lie">tumblr!</a> thank you so much for reading. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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